Behind Closed Doors
by crimson-obsidian-rose
Summary: prompt: "Spain/Canada, locked in a closet"- Sometimes those situations that you know are going to be bad, aren't all that terrible.


Hello again everyone!! I'm back with yet another fic, this time a Winter Holiday gift for tanya_tsuki. She requested from me a Spain/Canada fic, and (unknowingly) selected the "locked in a closet" prompt. This is the result of that… a lot longer than I expected it to be. I hope you guys enjoy it~

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia in any way, shape, or form.

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Behind Closed Doors

_Mon Dieu, he's so handsome… gah, Matt, what are you thinking?! J-Just calm down, he's just a person, just go up to him- geez Matt, he won't bite! Just go up to him and say-_

"H-Hi S-SpaAIN!"

What came very close to being a very smooth move (for Canada, anyways) suddenly went straight downhill, and the failed attempt was punctuated by a scream, crash, and slam, before there was the silence of stillness.

When Canada felt himself losing his balance, he had braced himself for a meeting between his arm and the floor, and so he was surprised when the painful blow never seemed to come.

"Ugh, _mi dios._" That voice, the accent, rang in Canada's ears and sent flashing red lights off in his mind. Oh…

"S-Spain! Are you okay?" The blond squeaked, standing quickly and offering a hand to pull the other up, but the Spaniard was too busy rubbing at his forehead to catch it.

"What happened? America, is that you?" Canada frowned, his heart clenching uncomfortably at the mistake, though he had a feeling this time it was completely innocuous. After all, it was pretty dark in the room…

Which was far too small to be a room, the blond quickly realized when he backed into a wall. Judging from the size, the darkness, and the damp, musty smell of wood polish and dirty mop water, Canada figured they were in a closet. Instantly stricken with dread he ran his hands over the walls, until he managed to find the door handle. For a moment his blood began to flow again, but then he realized the door was locked, and it seized right back up again.

Door. Stuck. Closet. Spain. Alone. In the dark. With Spain. In a closet. _With Spain._

Wordlessly, mostly because his heart was pounding so hard in his throat that he was afraid if he opened his mouth it would jump right out, Canada slipped onto the floor and banged him head into a wall. Excellent.

"America? What's wrong, _amigo_?" There was concern in the other's voice, and from what Canada could sense it seemed as though the Spaniard had managed to sit up as well, which was something of a relief. The last thing he needed was to have had injured Spain with this little accident of his.

"I'm not America, I'm Canada." The blond barely managed to get out, figuring it was best to set this straight before things got too confusing.

He was expecting the statement to be followed with a question of 'who?', and so it was almost a surprise when Spain answered, "_Lo siento, _Canada, it's hard to see very well in the dark. Has anyone ever told you that you both have similar voices?"

Canada mumbled something that sounded like an affirmative, and so Spain continued, "Are you alright? You sound hurt."

The concern in Spain voice struck Canada at first, but then he realized it was _Spain_ and he'd probably show the same amount of care to a drunken Russia.

"I'm not hurt, but we're locked in this closet until someone finds us." The Canadian said, a hint of heaviness in his tone, before he buried his face in his knees. He knew what went on in this particular closet at World Meetings, and the idea caused reactions in his body that he wasn't too proud of.

"Ah, well, that's not too bad." Spain consented, stretching his hand up and tugging on a light switch with ease, as if he'd done it before…

To say that Canada was brooding by then was an understatement. Or, at least, he was until a heavy warmth pressed itself against his side. He lifted his head from his knees and looked beside him, only to regret it a moment later when he caught sight of Spain's dazzling smile in the dim closet light.

"I mean, they'll have to find us eventually. And, until then, at least stuck with someone as sweet and cute as you."

Canada felt his face turn bright pink, and could only manage a nod. It was probably nothing; Spain was known for saying things like "cute" about everything, wasn't he? No sense in getting his hopes up, right?

Still, it was hard to maintain this mindset when Spain's arm was suddenly wrapped around his waist, especially seeing as how he felt the other's body heat through the fabric of his shirt, and it was so comfortable it was almost uncomfortable.

"So, Canada, it's been a while since we've spoken, hasn't it? How have you been?"

_Only Spain can be stuck in a closet with someone he barely speaks to and use it as an opportunity to bond, _Canada mused, closing his purple eyes as his mind then raced to respond.

"I-I've been well." Instantly Canada started to berate himself for such a weak answer, but Spain chuckled softly in a way that younger somehow _knew _was not mocking, and instantly the tension melted away.

"That's good. Glad to hear someone is staying positive in tough times!"

"Hm. H-How are you doing, Spain?" The blond wished the stutter would leave his voice, but since that did not seem like it was going to happen he decided to resign himself to the fact that it seemed Spain still hadn't noticed it.

"Me? I'm okay, though it's been lonely around my house lately, since Lovi is always trying to protect his brother from Germany now and doesn't visit, and France is always busy with one thing or other and Prussia is usually harassing Austria from the afterlife and-"

As Spain continued to tick friends off his fingers like flies who got too close to Australia during his rebel days, Canada felt his heart turning into a lead weight. Of course Spain was not like him; Spain had many, many people who he could spend his time with, while Canada was usually all by himself. Why would such a popular, charismatic man resign himself to timid, introverted little boy?

Canada could not continue his train of thought any longer, because in that moment a set of warm, moist lips pressed themselves against his cheeks and frazzled all his senses beyond function. When he finally did recover, he turned around looking for an explanation, and was met with warm green eyes.

"I don't like it when my friends cry, Canada. What's wrong?" The concern was back, but it sounded a little different this time; Canada couldn't tell if that was because of the kiss or not, but it hardly mattered as he brought a hand up to his cheeks to find that he had, in fact, started crying. What an idiot…

"N-Nothing." Man, did he ever feel stupid, especially when as he saw Spain's worried face. How could he have been so obvious?

"It is not nothing. Tell me, _por favor_?" Man, why did he have to have such beautiful pleading eyes?

Canada swallowed thickly, choosing his words carefully.

"I- there's this guy… and he doesn't ever notice me…-"

"Oh." Spain started thoughtfully. "And you like this guy, don't you?"

"Uh-huh." The blond nodded meekly.

"Then the solution is obvious! Just go tell him how you feel, and then live happily ever after!"

Canada almost wanted to smile at how simple that sounded, but Spain's thickness made it hard to be happy.

"I-It's not that easy… he has so many friends, and he probably likes someone else anyways and-"

This time he was cut off by a finger to his lips, and the Canadian had to bite back the sudden, strange urge to kiss it.

"It's better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all, _si_? If you want, you can practice on me, and pretend I'm the man you want to confess your undying love to!"

_Oh Spain, if only you knew…_

Still, the idea sounded so… promising. At least if he confessed and Spain obviously didn't want him, he could always say it was a name slip or something and hide out under his bed back in Alberta until the apocalypse.

"O-Okay."

Spain beamed, and Canada felt his heart skip a beat.

"Good! Now, pretend I'm your secret lover and tell me all about how you feel."

Canada felt his Adam's apple being pushed out of his throat by his rapidly pulsating heart, but knew this wasn't a chance he should pass up. Taking a deep breath to brace himself, he looked Spain directly in the eyes and, before he could loose his nerve, sputtered "I love you, Spain!"

Before he could even gauge the other's reaction, before he could even take a breath of relief that came with having the words out of his mouth, Canada's lips were seized roughly by the same warm, soft ones that had graced his cheeks minutes ago.

Canada's violet eyes widened incredibly, trying to confirm that what he felt was really happening, but when the arm Spain still had around his waist pressed them even close together, the Canadian could no longer resist. His eyes flew shut, and he tried to match Spain's fervor with his own passion, before breaking the kiss for much needed oxygen (and cursing his lungs at the same time).

"H-How… W-Why…?"

"_Mi amor,_ I've been wanting to do that for so long, but I didn't know how you would take it."

Canada's mind was dizzy, both from the kiss, and now that confession. "B-but… how did you know I was going to say your name?"

The brunet shrugged. "I didn't. I was going to blame it on your convincing act, and my hot Spanish blood."

There was a smile playing on Spain's lips, one that made Canada realize that he could finally relax. His blood started flowing through his body again, and that, mixed with lightheaded giddiness, made the blond giggle a bit.

"Ah, Canada, you're so cute! You have an adorable smile, you know." And as if to prove his point, Spain leaned in once more and left a small peck on Canada's maple sweet lips.

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"Spain? Canada? _Où êtes-vous?_"

Neither man knew exactly how much time had passed before they heard their 'savior's voice drift through the hall, but when they did it took a moment for them to untangle their limbs, before Canada knocked on the closet door.

"France? We're stuck in this closet!"

"_Vraiment_? How did this happen?" The Frenchman's voice was much closer now, and Canada could only sigh as he replied,

"I tripped and we fell in. Can you get the door open, _s'il vous plait?_"

"One moment please," France replied airily, and within seconds the locked "clicked" and the door came open.

"Oh, and what is this?" There was a mischievous hint in France's tone that finally made Canada realize that Spain's hand was still inside his back pocket. He turned to swat the hand away, but Spain didn't even flinch, only smiling as if this were completely normal (which to him, Canada figured, it probably was).

"You were right, France, it did work."

Canada gaped. "W-What?! You planned this? Spain! France!!"

It was France who chuckled first, ruffling the Canadian's hair, "I'm sorry, but Spain was desperate, and could not ignore a friend in need."

"You're not mad at me, are you?" Spain asked, and Canada turned to see the beginnings of a pout on his face.

"N-No, I guess not…"

After all, it was hard to stay mad at Spain when he gave little kisses like that.

_End._

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As always, leave any comments, feedback, or just a hello, I love to hear from you guys! And Happy Holidays to you all~

crimson-obsidian-rose


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